


Irritable Heart

by seismic_escape



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Badass grounder ladies, Clexa, Disabled Character, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Grab your tissues, Grounder Culture, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I don't know what I'm doing, Lexa deserves better, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, and yes there will be lady-loving, but I'm game if you are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-26 01:05:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6217405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seismic_escape/pseuds/seismic_escape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa struggles to fulfill her duties as Commander in the aftermath of her injuries both seen and unseen, and Clarke has to deal with the guilt of being the intended target as well as her own demons. Indra takes matters into her own hands while her Commander heals, and Octavia turns her back on her brother when he does the unforgivable. The tension between the Grounders and Sky People continues to escalate all the while, and one wrong move may hurtle them irrevocably towards all-out war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I rewrote the Scene-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named. And no, I'm not going to watch anything past 3x07 just yet, so please forgive my creative liberties.
> 
> Trigedasleng translations at the end, along with a few more notes.

As  _Heda_ , the sudden clarity that came just seconds after being wounded was no stranger to her. The adrenaline surged in her veins, and Lexa could see the situation in the room clearly even as she stumbled to her knees and then to the floor. She'd never wanted Clarke to stay in this room in the first place.

 

Standing some distance away was Titus, looking both horrified and foreign with _Skaikru_ weaponry clutched in his hand. Quickly bearing down on her was Clarke, looking both devastated and calm somehow as she pressed two hands down onto her bleeding chest. Lexa could feel her blood slowly seeping into her shirt and pant leg and the white hot agony that came along with it, both shots having been meant for her lover who was currently hovering above her sprawled frame and fixing her with hard eyes.

 

"Lexa, stay with me. _Stay with me_."

 

The desperation in Clarke's voice was enough to confirm that she was losing too much blood already. Lexa reached up with her opposite hand to place it on top of Clarke's, noticing the tremor in the younger girl's lower lip the second she did so. It hurt so badly to move, more or less to speak...but every instinct screamed at Lexa to comfort the girl who'd just given her the best morning she'd had in years.

 

_Her hair had gleamed golden in the late afternoon light, her naked body tangled up in the furs of her bed. Clarke's low, lyrical laugh filled her belly with warmth..._

 

" _Klark_ , don't be—"

 

"You're going to be okay," she interrupted, grabbing Lexa's hand and pressing it down onto her shoulder to take the place of her own...the healer quickly moving to apply pressure to the wound in her thigh simultaneously. The Grounder leader could see now that those strong, stubborn hands were marred with black. It was too late.

 

" _Klark_...it is time for my soul to—"

 

" _TITUS_!" Clarke suddenly roared at the startled advisor, interrupting her a second time. "Get your ass over here and _HELP_ me!"

 

The bald, tattooed man looked hesitant, and as  _Heda,_ Lexa immediately knew why he didn't come to her aid. She was dying, and the duty rested with him to prepare the ritual in order for her soul to be reincarnated into the next leader of their people. The evidence was the red leather case grasped in his shaking hands, the weapon having long clattered to the ground. Lexa met his regretful gaze, and though her vision began to get spotty, she held it with all the conviction she could muster.

 

"If you do _anything_ to harm Clarke...I swear the wrath of our ancestors will be upon you," she managed to get out through gritted teeth. Titus lowered his head to her respectfully, shamefully, before he approached them with his tools. The sudden bursting open of the doors behind them pre-empted Clarke's fury at his inaction, however. It was in that chaotic, tense moment that for Lexa, everything became a blur. She felt her heart thundering in her chest, and the grip she had on her own wound slackened.

 

She heard a garbling of sounds, as if listening to things underwater, as her shouting guards grabbed Titus and the offending gun was kicked away across the floor. Clarke tore off the bottom half of her shirt and hastily secured it around her blood-soaked leg, her hand lightly smacking against the side of Lexa's face to keep her conscious. The Commander was aware that she felt cold, and her pain was becoming more and more distant.

 

Things became fragmented. Seemingly out of the blue, the girl who was Indra's second appeared by Clarke's side and she smacked away Lexa's bloodied hand...another torn piece of someone's clothing being used by the _Skaikru_ as a makeshift bandage. Lexa hadn't been expecting that, nor the sight of a restrained and struggling boy she noticed past Clarke some distance away. Octavia looked furious as her gaze bore down into her, but to her credit her hands were swift and efficient to try and slow her blood loss. Lexa thought she saw the boy fall over in his chair.

 

The Commander opened her mouth to try and speak, to try to say anything of meaning to her sweaty and tireless lover as she elevated her injured leg, but shock had already set in. It was all she could do to breathe her shallow breaths, look upon the first love she'd had since Costia, and wait for darkness. Clarke was too busy tying a tourniquet around her upper leg to notice when Lexa took what she thought would be her last gasp of air, the knowledge that her soul would be passed on comforting her far less than she thought it would when the time came.

 

"It's not your time just yet, _ai hodnes_."

 

Apparently still alive, Lexa felt moisture streak down from her eyes to her temple. As _Heda,_ she knew the voices of the dead acted as guides to the afterlife. It made all the sense in the world that her soul would choose _her_ , now that she had honored her memory by forcing the wretched Nia to meet a justifiably violent end on the head of a spear.

 

"I see you're still just as stubborn as always...even when you're lying there bleeding on the floor," the spirit of Costia said with an amused smile, seemingly emerging from the shadows that now surrounded Clarke and Octavia. From her chestnut braids to her playful hazel eyes, Lexa could only stare in utter disbelief as the very image of her slain beloved was before her again...completely whole and completely at peace.

 

" _Kostia_..."

 

"Don't talk, you're weak. Just rest...and be ready for what happens when you wake. It will be a struggle, but you will survive it," the spirit of Costia said gently as she walked to Lexa's side opposite the two hurried Sky people. She knelt beside her, smoothing a hand through the Commander's sweat-soaked braids. Her deep green eyes now refused to close in surrender, locked on Costia's face and re-committing it to memory. It had been long enough, Lexa realized, that she had almost forgotten her smile lines and the scar on her chin she'd gotten one night while they'd been rip-roaring drunk and decided to spar. Costia had gotten the best of her then, like always.

 

Though a jacket had been draped over her at some point, Lexa was soon shuddering uncontrollably. As  _Heda_ , fear in the face of death was never supposed to be an option...but as the very real manifestations of her deepest affections appeared simultaneously before her, Lexa felt herself succumb to it. Her heart ruled her, and she wanted desperately to live. Death was not the end, but she still had more to do in this life.

 

"Like I told you that night...love is not a weakness. _Taitos_ was wrong. Don't be afraid of it," Costia leaned down to whisper into her beloved's ear, kissing her fevered brow...the Commander wanting to laugh in spite of her rapidly fading strength. Her first love still knew her better than she knew herself, even in death.

 

It was then that the darkness began descending upon her, heavy and absolute, amidst the muted backdrop of Clarke and Octavia yelling at one another and hauling her into a make-shift gurney made of bloodied furs.

 

" _Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim,_ _Leksa_ ," came the soothing tone of Costia's voice one final time, lulling her  _Heda_  to sleep.

 

And then, there was nothing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple things:
> 
> 1) Yeah, I changed her injuries.  
> 2) Please don't hate me for doing this to our beloved Heda. This is going to be a rough road ahead for her, but I figured it was better than...well, etcetera.  
> 3) Googling "how to treat a gunshot wound" was surprisingly hilarious.  
> 4) I'll try and update once a week, but no promises just yet.
> 
> "Heda" = Commander  
> "Skaikru" = Sky People  
> "ai hodnes" = my love  
> "Kostia" = Costia  
> "Taitos" = Titus  
> "Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim, Leksa" = May we meet again, Lexa


	2. Vital Signs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just re-watched 3x07. Man, I need another drink. Also shit, I totally forgot about Murphy. Edited the last chapter to throw him in there. 
> 
> And if it isn't obvious, italics can mean several things: a) Trigedasleng, b) inner thoughts (outside of quotation marks), and c) emphasis (within quotation marks).
> 
> But yeah, surprise early update. Enjoy!

“Octavia, do you have her or not?!” Clarke snapped as the two worked together to lift a now clearly unconscious Lexa onto the bed, the warrior having taken the harder task of lifting the Commander’s upper body. Octavia simply grunted her assent, and they managed to settle her on the mattress seconds later. For such a lithe and powerful figure, one that often moved with the grace of a predator, Lexa now looked like something her lover would never have equated her with before—fragile.

 

_Dad...Wells...Finn...no, I won't allow it. Not again._

 

The blonde cursed under her breath as her lover’s face remained frighteningly still, her fingers pressing into her neck to find her pulse. It was little more than a thread but it was there. There was still hope, and she would seize on it.

 

“Fuck, Clarke…will you tell me what the hell happened already? We were supposed to leave three hours a—”

 

“I don’t have time to explain. Go untie Murphy and get the medical supplies. Bandages, saline solution, antibiotics, suture kit...just bring everything you can carry, okay?"

 

Octavia immediately let out an indignant sound, crossing her arms over her chest. Clarke's eyes twitched at the black smudges on her hands. “You have any idea how hard it was for me to get those? We can’t just use them all in one go on—”

 

“Just _DO_ it!" the blonde commanded, shoving a pillow underneath Lexa's heavily bleeding leg. And that's truly what it was—a command, and Clarke knew as soon as she saw the curling of the other girl's upper lip that she would hear about it later. We can't waste them _on Lexa_  is what Clarke knew was under those words; their earlier conversation they'd had in the same room flashed through her mind, and the rage and protectiveness that filled her was unsettling. Octavia wisely didn't put up any more of a fight, however, and quickly helped to free the bruised and bloodied boy who'd fallen to the floor.

 

"Fucking _shit_...are the guards gone?" Murphy said immediately as he was able to spit out the cloth in his mouth, getting to his feet without help from Octavia who suddenly bolted from the room. He rolled his eyes when Clarke didn't answer him right away, though from the looks of it the coast was clear. Titus shooting his own Commander would probably occupy them for a while, allowing him to make a clean escape. He briefly hoped the bastard received a similar beating to the one he'd dealt out.

 

Just as he stepped towards the door, however, the blonde's hard voice stopped him dead in his tracks. "Don't you dare walk out that door. If Lexa dies, there's no hope for any of us," Clarke said with surprising bluntness. "You won't be able to hide from the war that's coming, Murphy. Now come help me rip up this sheet, long strips if you can."

 

The thief exhaled harshly, staring daggers into the back of Clarke's head as he waltzed towards the bed in an irritating fashion...grabbing the sheet and ripping it loudly down the middle in his frustration. He didn't want to admit she was right, but in the end his supreme survival instinct always took priority over his pride. Dodging both Grounder arrows and Arkadia bullets in the forest didn't sound too appealing.

 

Clarke grabbed the knife off her nightstand that Roan had given her, using it to cut off the now thoroughly soiled makeshift bandages she'd wrapped tightly around Lexa's chest and shoulder. She would have laughed at the irony of that weapon now saving Lexa's life, but the ashen face of the brunette kept her mouth in a straight, rigid line. She tore open her lover's shirt, again with the help of the blade, and snatched up one of Murphy's torn pieces...pressing it firmly against the still oozing bullet hole that marred the warrior's olive skin. The blood was still soaking through too fast.

 

_"Kostia..." Lexa had said in a weak voice, her pained green eyes looking past Clarke's shoulder. She was clearly hallucinating, a sign of shock settling in. The color drained from her cheeks and made her seem so frail, so unlike the smiling and flushed face that had made its way down her body just hours earlier..._

 

When she returned, Octavia dropped the medical supplies unceremoniously on the bed...her disapproval in the action clear. The not-so-subtle gesture snapped Clarke out of it, and although the two friends were at serious odds at the moment the blonde was incredibly grateful that she'd done what she'd asked. Seeing Lexa invoke her dead beloved's name minutes before, as if she was on the cusp of death, had shaken her to the core. She had to focus if she was going to pull this off, and these supplies actually gave her lover a fighting chance.

 

Picturing her own mother's handiwork in her mind, Clarke reached for the saline solution first after cutting open the filthy cloth on Lexa's thigh with a steady, careful hand. She doused the ugly wound with the solution in an attempt to irrigate it, breathing in relief as she realized her unconscious lover would be spared the searing pain of cleansing the wound. She shoved the bottle into Octavia's hands seconds later, taking her time in securing the fresh, medical-grade bandage over the torn flesh and checking on the tautness of her tourniquet before moving to do the same with the wound higher up. Lexa's mouth was slightly agape, and Clarke wanted to cry with relief as she kept breathing...though labored as it was.

 

_Those soft lips she'd just begun to know turning as pale as the rest of her lover's body...black blood dripping from the corner of her mouth, the same mouth that had glided across the skin of her inner thigh with such tenderness and deference before dipping lower..._

 

The blonde stepped away from the bed some time later, finally allowing her hands to shake with the nerves she'd bottled up. She ignored Octavia and Murphy's tense looks alike as she grabbed the countless dirtied pieces of her shirt, jacket, sheets and whatever else they'd used to slow the bleeding and threw them in a morbid pile across the room. She wordlessly covered Lexa in the last of the clean furs she could find, pressing her palm to that normally proud, defiant brow. She was warm, but it wasn't a fever. The antibiotics would still be needed once she woke up, and she would have to stitch the wounds closed at some point to further prevent infection...with or without a numbing agent.

 

"Clarke..."

 

If Lexa survived the night, it would be a miracle. She had no idea how much internal bleeding she'd suffered, though it seemed like the leg wound had missed the major artery...and if her lung had been nicked by the bullet, she would have started to choke on—

 

" _CLARKE_ _!_ " Octavia snapped, taking her turn to interrupt. The warrior was caught off-guard by the weary, broken look in her friend's eyes as Clarke looked her way. Was this the same girl who once led the fumbling, clueless Delinquents after touchdown? The Slayer of the Mountain? The Commander of  _Death_ , for fuck's sake _?_

 

"No, I'm not going to the blockade with you. Don't even ask," Clarke said quietly. Her hand moved from Lexa's forehead back to tangle in those damp, dark brown braids where it remained.

 

Murphy looked clueless, but smartly chose to keep his mouth shut. He felt like the tension in the room could be cut with the rather wicked-looking dagger lying by Lexa's prone form...one he now had his eye on. Indra's second, however, barreled right on through...refusing to be pressured into silence by the heavy scene in front of them.

 

"Clarke, Pike _has_ to be dealt with. Even if Lexa lives, that doesn't change the fact that Arkadia is under fucking siege! Even Bellamy is siding with him now," Octavia said with bitterness laced in her tone, her fists clenching at her sides. "The second Pike orders one of his soldiers across the blockade in protest..."

 

"Let him. Arkadia could use a good thinning out," Murphy couldn't help but saying under his breath. Evidently, he was ignored...much to his annoyance.

 

"I  _can't_. Not until I know that she..." Clarke started, her breath hitching in her throat. She swallowed heavily. "This is my fault. The Grounders have to know what happened, and order has to be maintained while she recovers. The Clan leaders are going to either try to seize on this...or lose their minds when they find out that Lexa was shot on behalf of a _Skaikru, Wanheda_  or not. The blockade will be the least of our problems if there isn't a clear leader in Polis. A missing link in the chain isn't an option right now, not when there's so much anger about not avenging the deaths of the warriors Pike slaughtered."

 

The once- _Skaikru_ next to her stared at Clarke long and hard. Octavia wanted to say she was surprised, but she knew just how influential Lexa had been on Clarke since long before she got to Polis. Their obvious romantic entanglements aside, the Commander had been guiding Clarke into her way of thinking ever since they'd stepped into the Grounder camp outside Camp Jaha. The knack for strategic thinking wasn't new, but political maneuvering certainly was. The warrior recoiled in disgust.

 

"Fine. You sit here and play _politics,_ and I'm going to go try and stop this before our friends and family get killed. You remember them, right?" Octavia said with bite, not delaying her departure a second longer. She slammed the door for emphasis, leaving Clarke and Murphy alone in an awkward vigil over the bed. Neither of them looked at the other for an uncomfortable amount of time.

 

"So...we need some food, yeah?" Murphy piped up, his tone far too light for the situation at-hand. Clarke sighed, pulling up a chair to settle in for what she knew would be an all-night vigil. She let her fingers drift back down to Lexa's pulse point and listened for her breathing, her lover's vital signs her only reassurance.

 

"Yeah."

 

* * *

 

Lexa knew she was dreaming immediately. She knew this path through the woods too well...the sounds of her horse snorting beneath her and the heavy trudging of her freed people's boots behind her, the shadow of the Mountain falling over them as they made their way home to Grounder territory. This was the path of one of her greatest betrayals—one that she had been doomed to repeat night after restless night for months on end.

 

The Commander looked on either side of her, first to Indra and then to Nyko, and then down to her armored chest. Her gloved hand moved over the spot where the first bullet had pierced the upper right section of her chest, then the second that tore through her left upper thigh. There was nothing to be found, no evidence of Titus' treachery and unintended treason.

 

_He could have killed Clarke. Fleimkappa...how could you betray me?_

 

 "You did well,  _Heda,_ " came Indra's predictable comment. Lexa sighed heavily, knowing what her answer would be before she said it.

 

"I did what I had to, _Indrah_. Nothing more."

 

This answer seemed to please her right-hand. "As the  _Heda_ should. The  _Skaikru_ must fight their own battles...otherwise, they are allies too weak for us to bother with," Indra remarked, gesturing to a couple of scouts that had circled back to the main group. "We cannot afford to risk life and limb for their kind when it is doubtful they would do the same for us."

 

Lexa looked ahead, trying to spot the hawk she'd seen diving down into the clearing ahead of them more than a thousand times over during this particular dream. During their march home in reality, she'd considered it a symbol of her own nature to seize upon opportunity despite how callous it seemed. Clarke had to understand someday, she'd thought back then...it was in her very nature to do so. Now, the image was hollow and devoid of any meaning. There had been options at the Mountain, but she had caved at the last moment.

 

She had been too afraid of failure.

 

"What of the  _Skaikru..._ the one you call  _Okteivia_?" the Commander asked so she wouldn't have to dwell on her own thoughts. Though she ended up hardly paying attention to the fact that her general bristled at the invoking of her second's name; in fact, she didn't hear Indra's response at all. The hawk was gone and replaced by the person she hadn't dreamed of seeing again so soon—the person who had finally returned to her mind's eye after bringing justice to her killer.

 

Costia sat cross-legged in the field, testing the tautness of her short bow's string. She smiled in Lexa's direction as her horse approached, the Commander looking far more rightfully imposing in her warpaint, battle armor and flanked by a massive group of her soldiers...a powerful image that seemed unfitting of her, given how quickly she'd fallen to the floor in Clarke's room. Her great army and prowess with a blade had meant nothing when it came to stopping either bullet.

 

 _"To be Heda is never to give in to weakness,"_ _Titus breathed...staff splattered with the black blood of his pupil._

 

The ghost of her lover got to her feet and placed her hand on the horse's neck...speaking softly in their native tongue to the mare that promptly nickered appreciatively and tossed her head. Feeling her throat tighten with emotion, the Commander averted her eyes slightly. The sight brought back stolen moments they'd shared in her private stables so long ago...a slew of deeply intimate memories coming to mind that she didn't feel ready to revisit.

 

"You were so gifted with them," Lexa allowed herself to whisper, hating how reverent her words sounded. The huntress smirked and batted away her lover's outstretched hand, vaulting herself up onto the horse instead and settling in behind Lexa as they rode on...Costia's slender arms enclosing habitually around her waist. Her breath was warm in the Commander's ear and along her neck.

 

"Why do you still torture yourself like this? Every leader makes mistakes...reliving them endlessly won't prevent that. It just makes you question yourself," came that honeyed tone. The Grounder leader felt her jaw tighten reflexively, and she dug her heels into her horse's side to propel them forward at a faster pace. The two riders left the army in their wake, the white steed carrying them off into the dense forest that was slowly losing its shape and definition the further they went.

 

Costia's cheek rested against the back of her beloved's shoulder, her arms tightening their hold on Lexa's body as the two fell into the familiar rhythm and feeling of being on the run. They had often taken off like this from Polis when Anya and Titus had been too harsh with their younger, considerably more rebellious Commander. The Grounder leader gripped her reins until her knuckles went white.

 

"If I'd marched with Clarke, my three hundred warriors would still be alive. _Indrah_ would not be wounded and hiding in shame. The  _Skaikru_ would not have rebelled against their leaders and installed a tyrant. _Taitos_ would not have shot me. Clarke would not be—"

 

Suddenly, her horse was skidding to a halt in front of the field of said three hundred dead Grounders...the beast rearing in panic at the smell of death. Lexa scoured over the fallen with her remorseful green gaze...the hands at her midsection suddenly pulling away and instead touching the holes that appeared in her leg and chest, the mark of the Nightblood soon covering Costia's fingers.

 

"Keep pressure on these ones first, _Leksa_ ," the chestnut-haired girl whispered. "Healing is a process."

 

The  _Heda_ sighed heavily as warm, familiar lips danced across the back of her neck...and then she realized that reassuring weight pressing into her was gone. She was alone, looking out at the grisly evidence of her failed leadership. Each corpse represented orphans, widows and widowers she'd created amongst her people...a life destroyed in every blank, haunting stare. The darkness from the woods caught up to her, surrounding her once more.

 

_"To be Heda is to be alone."_

 

* * *

 

Clarke awoke at some point during the night, her neck immediately aching as she lifted her head from her crossed arms on the soft furs by Lexa's feet. Between changing out Lexa's bandages, scarfing down a dinner Murphy had managed to steal from the kitchen and keeping the Commander's agitated guards at bay as long as she possibly could, she was absolutely exhausted. Although she had managed to get one of them to send for Nyko's apprentice, given that the Grounder healer was still under her mother's care and thus presumably Pike's imprisonment.

 

The blonde gazed blearily at the night sky outside her window, wondering how long it had been since the last wave of Grounders had pounded insistently on her locked, previously guarded door. She had instilled the fear of  _Wanheda_ into them somehow, threatening them with retribution if word was to spread of Lexa's condition before she stabilized.

 

Hearing the soft snores of Murphy somewhere nearby in the dark, Clarke got up and lit a few more candles by her bed...the flickering light illuminating Lexa's sunken face and her slowly rising and falling chest. She sighed immediately in relief as her fingers immediately went once more for the reassuring pulse point at her lover's wrist, Clarke needing to feel the continuing beat of Lexa's heart like she needed air. She tucked a piece of stray hair behind the brunette's ear before leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, her sky blue eyes moistening of their own volition.

 

"Those bullets were meant for _me_ , damnit...why did you come looking for me?" the Sky girl whispered to the unconscious Commander, trying not to cling too desperately to the limp wrist in her grasp. Clarke pressed her lover's lightly curled hand to her lips, kissing each knuckle in turn...the guilt she felt suddenly threatening to suffocate her.

 

A quiet but sure knock roused her, and she hesitantly placed Lexa's hand back on the soft furs...Clarke grabbing Roan's knife and arming herself warily as she grasped the doorkob and slowly cracked it open. A tattooed face, partially shaved head and irritated brown eyes greeted her. The woman looked to be some years older than Clarke, and she was at least several inches taller...long, thick black braids falling over one shoulder.

 

"Are you Rajani?" she asked of who she hoped was Nyko's comrade, lowering her voice once she heard Murphy stir on the floor. The woman didn't seem to give the knife in Clarke's hand more than an initial, unimpressed glance as she pushed her way inside, crossing the room easily in her long strides to stand by the bed...her hand pressing to Lexa's forehead just as the blonde's had seconds earlier.

 

" _Hey,_ " the Sky girl said with unconcealed annoyance, moving to grab the Grounder's arm defensively as she got within her injured lover's space...the larger, clearly muscular woman shrugging off her grip like she was nothing more than a pest.

 

"Yes, I am  _Rajanee._ I am here to serve my  _Heda_...and though she seems to have gone soft on your people as of late, I have no business with you  _Skaikru,_ " the darker-skinned woman all but snarled out. Clarke frowned, wondering how the gentle Nyko had ended up with someone who certainly did not appear to have the temperament of a healer in the slightest. She relaxed slightly, however, when she saw the Grounder drop her bag of herbs, salves, woven bandages and other supplies onto the bed...the blonde knowing that Nyko's methods of soothing pain for his warriors were second to only her mother's skills. The idea of having his pupil by her side suddenly comforted her, even if she wouldn't relinquish Lexa's care completely.

 

"I've already cleaned the wounds, and my bandages will retain more fluids than yours will. I just changed them an hour ago," Clarke remarked to the other healer who was now silent in concentration...her steady fingers applying what looked to be a rudimentary antibiotic salve to the reddened skin surrounding both of her leader's wounds.

 

She opened another jar and instantly Clarke recoiled at the smell, covering her nose as the heavy herbal scent permeated the air and made her eyes water. Rajani smeared some on her Commander's upper lip before securing the lid back on, confusing the blonde further.

 

"Why the hell would you—" she started, though Clarke was immediately distracted by the sudden opening and furious blinking of her lover's deep green eyes...the shuddering, wet gasp that escaped her chapped lips causing the Sky girl to push past Rajani and cradle her head in her hands. The gaze that met hers was alarmed and pained, and each heavy inhale of breath was accompanied with a worrying whine as the air crashed through her lungs.

 

She had to calm her down, and fast.

 

"I'm _here_ , Lexa...you were shot. We've got you, okay?" the girl known as  _Wanheda_ said clearly, stroking the sides of her Lexa's pale face with her thumbs...her lips pressing to her forehead and lingering there for a long, selfish moment. Rajani shoved the bottle of antibiotics into her ribs before too long, suddenly making the Grounder's intentions in waking her wounded leader clear.

 

Clarke took the bottle and grabbed a cup of water off the nightstand, popping two pills into her palm while guiding the cup to her lover's lips. The brunette sputtered ungracefully as she tried to swallow down a couple gulps, her eyes shut tight as the pain hit her in full force...the adrenaline that dulled her senses before long gone. The Sky girl did her best to push past Lexa's agonized groans and gently patted her cheek to get her attention, slightly bloodshot eyes refocusing on her and then the pill that soon pressed into her lips.

 

"You have to take two...come on, I know you can do it," the  _Skaikru_ healer said with clear desperation, hoping the urgency on her face would give Lexa the strength to swallow them down. She had no idea how aware the other girl was as she seemed to look through her, though she could have collapsed in relief when the brunette opened her mouth and allowed Clarke the place the pill on her tongue...the cup tipping water into her mouth a second later.

 

There was some more choking and coughing, and the second pill got coughed up on the first go...but eventually Lexa had managed to take both pills that would hopefully rid her system of any growing infection. Clarke wiped her mouth clean and took the time to dab at the blood and sweat that had accumulated elsewhere on her face, neck and in her hair...the blonde trying valiantly not to let her face crumple once the Commander's face began to slacken once more. Sleep would be merciful after all, given the impossible pain she was enduring.

 

But Clarke was terrified, still.

 

" _Ste yuj, Heda,_ " Rajani said in a low and respectful voice, the healer apparently having dropped to one knee by the bed. Her fist was clasped tightly and pressed to her forehead while the other rested on the mattress, the Grounder woman looking to be deeply in prayer. It should have touched Clarke to see the clear devotion that some still felt for their  _Heda_ , despite the way advisors from the other Clans seemed to fight her every step of the way, but all the blonde could focus on was how Lexa had looked at her like a scared, wounded animal.

 

_I did this. I put her here...for what?_

 

Clarke collapsed into her chair. Every bone in her body ached, and she simply wanted to bury her face in her hands and cry until her throat was raw. She wouldn't allow herself to lose it with Rajani present, however...nor Murphy, even if he slumbered undisturbed on the other side of the room. She simply ran a hand over her face and tried to rub the tension headache right out of her skull, though she knew that would do little good.

 

"Sleep,  _Skaikru._ You will be of no use to her while dead on your feet," the other healer said derisively. Clarke suddenly realized she wanted to ask her how she knew that she'd had medicine and that Lexa needed to be awake to take it...but the thought slipped away from her easily as she curled up in the uncomfortable chair, nodding her assent to Nyko's apprentice who she was sure would wake her the second anything happened. Rajani was right—being sleep-deprived would help no one, and things would only get more complicated in the morning.

 

"Thank you..." the blonde murmured sleepily as she watched Lexa's chest rise and fall yet again, her blue eyes fluttering shut only after counting the seconds in-between each breath several times.

 

_In...and out. In...and out._

 

* * *

 

The Commander was plunged back into darkness, and this time she was falling...her limbs flailing ungracefully as she tried and failed to slow her descent. When she hit the ground, she somehow didn't shatter the wooden pyre she had landed on. She hadn't even felt the impact, though the flames suddenly licking her boots and hair made her scramble to her feet. She leapt off the burning platform and rolled across the grass, catching herself on the second roll and lifting her head.

 

The charred remains of TonDC lay before her, along with the massive wooden funeral pyre she'd had her soldiers build to honor the dead. The flames reached high in the sky, and the stench of burning corpses was thick enough to make Lexa cough heavily and cover her nose and mouth. As long as she lived, she would never forget that smell...and what she had allowed to happen here.

 

_Another failure. Another way I've dishonored the Commanders before me._

 

"Was this sacrifice worth it, _Leksa?_ " asked Costia, who was leaning up against a tree behind her. Despite never wanting to take her eyes off her dead lover's face again, Lexa's face remained fixated forward...forcing herself to face the destruction she had wrought once more. She remembered Clarke's horrified expression that day when she'd relayed to her the cold, calculating strategy that would leave their infiltration of Mount Weather untouched. The screams of her dying people were her own cross to bear. 

 

"I don't know," came the Commander's broken reply. She felt, in a word, defeated.

 

"I taught you better than this, _ai seken_."

 

Lexa's eyes widened before she whipped her head around. Gone was the teasing, lovely alto of Costia's voice...replaced by the harsh words and bluntness of the woman who had been her greatest mentor and source of guidance. Titus may have imparted the knowledge unto her of the Commander's legacy, but she was forged into a warrior and _Heda_ by this Grounder and her alone. In the  _Heda's_  mind, this warrior was truly, forever  _unrivaled_.

 

" _Onya_?"

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos, bookmarks and comments guys! Let me know what you like/dislike about it so far, or what characters you'd really like to see make an appearance.
> 
> "Wanheda" = Commander of Death  
> "Fleimkappa" = Flamekeeper  
> "Indrah" = Indra  
> "Okteivia" = Octavia  
> "Rajanee" = Rajani  
> "Ste yuj, Heda" = Stay strong, Heda  
> "ai seken" = my second  
> 


	3. Airways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's been forever. I had a lot of thinking to do and I think I rewrote this chapter about ten times. I was close to giving up completely on this series, but ultimately I think it's more important to have this medium to create something that I feel will bring me comfort in the days to come. I hope it does for you too. I'll try and update regularly.
> 
> Also, I'm definitely taking a hard right from canon now. Doing too much research on where the plot was going makes me a sad panda. I never watched the end of S3 and I probably never will.
> 
> Just drop me a line if I botch some Trigedasleng (I lifted some from a couple awesome authors I have bookmarked), fuck up a character or make things too gay. Joke's on you, it's never gay enough.
> 
> We're all in this together, guys. Don't hide.
> 
> PS: I changed my name lol

Lexa had lost count of the amount of times she'd been cut, but some small part of her left aware was roused once she realized the punishment had finally stopped. Her head bobbed slightly against the pole she was tied to, as if she were drunk, in order to look through bleary eyes at the woman standing before her with the bloodied blade that had carved her sins into her skin. Anya's black warpaint and even, unyielding stare was as intimidating in death as it'd been in life, the young Commander thought with unbridled affection despite the pain this woman was bringing her.

 

_Every battle we fought together was my greatest honor, fos._

 

"Even when close to death, you're  _still_  wasting your energy on being sentimental," the older woman said with an irritated, sharp exhale. Lexa smiled weakly, her face marred with her own black blood and bleeding warpaint. Anya always hid her fondness for her and the very few close to her well, and she often lectured her young  _seken_ for wearing her heart on her sleeve in her younger years. That lesson had been learned harshly on the day  _Azgeda_ had returned Costia's severed head to her and thus completely tore her world apart.

 

The brunette could still remember the fury and regret stitched onto her mentor's face as she'd held her in her private chambers, both women having sunk to their knees on the cold floor without a single word being spoken. Anya's grip had been steadfast throughout her  _heda's_ mournful cries that had eventually devolved into a series of wretched howls.

 

"Look at me,  _Leksa._ "

 

Green eyes rose to the occasion despite every fiber of Lexa's body being on fire with agony. She could see Anya wasn't alone, Gustus' solid frame standing beside her and Costia still lingering to wander the crowd of assembled, roaring townspeople that had come to see the hundred strikes of their leader who had doomed them to missile strike. The weight of the ghosts before her was suffocating, and Lexa suddenly struggled to breathe. Still, she did not break eye contact with her mentor who suddenly strode forward and rested the cool blade of the knife up against the side of her throat.

 

"When you lost our first spar, what did I tell you?"

 

The bloodied leader chuckled, her throat bobbing against the sharp knife. "I think too much, and you would beat it out of me."

 

"You  _hesitate_ ," the older Grounder said with a snarl, pulling away from her student and circling her. Each step was calculating, almost predatory. It wasn't the first time that Lexa had felt as though her previous General had suddenly disappeared and been replaced by a ravenous wolf.

 

"It was no mistake that you won the Conclave, your _N_ _atblida_ is fierce. But it drove me mad when you would be within a strike of throwing me onto my back, and you would lose the chance because you were too busy trying to evaluate the other options you had to do so," Anya said from somewhere behind her. "I have trained impulsive fools who rushed at me mindlessly and crafted them into weapons of  _Trikru_...no, I knew overconfidence would never be your vice as  _heda._ Not a lust for power, not a love of violence."

 

Her slain love emerged from the furious faces of her people, those calloused and tender hands she knew so well folded in front of her. "Doubt," Costia murmured, catching the knife out of thin air that Anya had tossed to her. She began a mesmerizing pattern of tossing the weapon up and catching it by the handle, her graceful legs taking her to then rest on none other than Lexa's throne that had materialized in the middle of TonDC. 

 

"Your doubt in the strength of your own  _Kongeda_ made you vulnerable to Nia's spies, and they were able to strike at your heart," the huntress said, accentuating the last word by driving the blade into the chair's armrest.

 

The Commander's bloodied fingers curled into fists above her head, her jaw set.  _Niron..._

 

"Your doubt caused you to miss the obvious...that one of your closest allies was trying to wreck your plan to ally with  _Skaikru_ from the beginning out of fear for your life," came the low rumble from Gustus. His warm eyes carried only worry for his old friend and beloved leader, despite the cut of the words. His chest was bare, and covered in splotches and angry slash marks of crimson that was so unlike Lexa's. "Then you doubted the strategy of this new ally against our mutual enemy, and let TonDC burn."

 

Anya stepped in front of Lexa once more, grabbing her by the chin and wrenching her to the side until their gazes met in an intense stare. Her  _seken's_ eyes were moist and broken.

 

"It made you walk away from the battle to destroy the  _maunon,_ and forced  _Wanheda_ to be the one to let their  _jus_ flow in our forests.  _She_  avenged the death of our people...and mine," the older warrior got in the final blow, letting Lexa's normally proud jaw fall from her grasp. The Commander sagged forward in defeat, tears falling freely and mixing with the rain that began to pummel them from above.

 

The brunette had no idea for how long she remained that way, suspended in time and forced to feel every drop of blood mixing with the rainwater as it coursed down her body, but by the time that she was cut from her restraints it had felt like an eternity had passed. The cold was bone-deep, and she simply had no strength to keep herself from collapsing onto the earth before her and staying there.

 

Anya was kneeling beside her then, and though Lexa's vision was almost completely blurry she could make out the shape of the braid Clarke had given her all those months ago in her  _fos'_ hand.

 

"What I taught you was to trust your instincts, and to strike with purpose. It shows in your sword arm,  _Leksa_...let it show in how you lead our people," her mentor said above the roar of the torrential downpour. "You are  _heda._ You are chosen."

 

Lexa reached up with her right arm, the limb shaking, and she grasped Anya's wrist as hard as she could. The braid, cut from that powerful, wild woman now so convincingly alive before her, was trapped between their rain-soaked skins.

 

" _Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim,_ " Lexa said nearly under her breath. Anya scowled, and the familiar sight caused her student's heart to break all over again for the loss.

 

"Louder."

 

" _Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim!_ " came the answering, louder shout. Her voice was breaking, but it still wasn't enough for the older warrior.

 

"LOUDER,  _TRIGONA!_ "

 

" _GE SMAK DAUN, GYON OP NODOTAIM_!" the Commander bellowed with enough force to unexpectedly blow away everything in her field of vision. The ghosts, the burning village, the rain and the treetops had vanished in the blink of an eye. All she could see was white—glaring, painful white.

 

The last thing she heard was Anya's tell-tale, raspy laugh.

 

* * *

 

Clarke awoke with the morning sun, her sky blue eyes opening then squeezing shut reflexively once the glaring brightness of the invasive rays hit her through the drawn curtains. To say she’d had a restful night was far from the truth—whether it was from waking in a cold sweat from chaotic nightmares she could no longer remember, or simply the gut instinct to rise and check on Lexa as she progressed through the night, the  _Skaikru_  girl was already weary when she lifted her head a second time. She rubbed her eyes of sleep and got to her feet, however, her gaze naturally drawn to the bed where the Commander’s chest was still rising and falling in that same constant, relieving pattern.

 

Rajani was seated by her  _heda's_ side on a wooden stool she’d found unused in the corner of the room, the imposing woman opening and closing what looked to be a worn leather case…Clarke taking a moment to study her hard profile before she joined her in her vigil. That was when the blonde noticed that the bloodied bandages were in a heap on the corner of the mattress, and that Lexa's wounds were apparently inflamed and covered in very obvious stitches.

 

"What the hell?!" Clarke snapped as she ran to the other side of the bed and rummaged through her limited supplies to find fresh bandages and more disinfectant. She had to resist the urge to physically shove Rajani away from her lover's side as she doused the wounds again and covered them carefully, even if she knew deep down that this woman was physically about as movable as a wall. "I told you to wake me up! Are those needles even fucking sterile?!"

 

" _Sha,_ " came the simplistic, infuriating reply. Clarke didn't have to look at her Grounder companion to know she was frowning. "I am her  _fisa._ I have done all of this longer than you've been alive,  _Klark kom Skaikru._ "

 

That made the blonde glance her way, but only after she'd made sure the last of her bandages were secure. "I get that, and you clearly know how to use our medicine but...you need to wake me next time. I need to be...she's..." Clarke tried to say, soon distracted by the hastening of her lover's breathing and her sudden stirring. The Sky girl cupped Lexa's cheek and leaned in close to soothe her with soft words, watching carefully to see if she would truly awaken. Much to her relief due to the pain of having stitches done without anesthetic, the Commander relaxed against the furs and her breathing returned to normal.

 

"Rest now..." Clarke said quietly, her eyes watering of their own accord. She kept her head turned towards Lexa as she slept, not wanting the Grounder healer to see her tears. She could hear Rajani picking up her stool and moving it a respectful distance away from the bed.

 

"She is your  _niron,_ then. I was not aware," the dark-skinned woman observed. For a second time, her words forced Clarke's attention...though not without a discrete swipe of her sleeve to her eyes first.

 

" _Niron_?"

 

"She has not taught you this word?" Rajani asked with mild amusement, a thick brow raised. She surprised Clarke by chuckling lightly, causing the blonde to narrow her eyes in annoyance and shrug off the comment completely.

 

"Just...please get me up first next time anyway," she said exasperatedly, her fingers trailing over her lover's bare hip. "You do have great form though, with the stitches," Clarke said offhandedly. She had only caught a glimpse of them while frantically patching Lexa up, but she knew good handiwork when she saw it. The stitches were tight and precise, and likely wouldn't leave horrible scars. "My mom is a doctor, and it looked a lot like something she'd do."

 

The taller woman straightened, nodding in recognition. " _Naikou_ taught me. He was a good mentor, friend...and knows much of your people's ways," she said slowly. The blonde suddenly felt eyes boring into her back. "If your people know what's good for them, he will still be alive when we break down your fence."

 

Clarke was stunned by the vitriol in those last few words. "Rajani, I..."

 

"Yo Princess, we got a problem," interjected a wild-eyed and bruised Murphy as he suddenly burst through one of the doors to Clarke's room, slammed it shut and barricaded it with his back. He carried a surprisingly helpful amount of medical supplies and food in his arms, and the loud banging that soon followed was nothing if not predictable. "The Grounders are freaking out about that asshole being dragged to the brig and want answers about her," the thief said as he jutted a finger at Lexa.

 

The Sky girl stood and positioned herself between Murphy and the unconscious Commander almost reflexively. "Fine, I'll deal with them. You skulking around and stealing too much from their rations isn't going to help," she said with a pointed glare.

 

"Seeing as how you're not budging from this room, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one keeping us fed," the delinquent fired back, wincing at the harsh pounding on the door. "Plus Octavia is as good as gone, so like it or not you need me."

 

Clarke didn't like the tone of opportunity in Murphy's smug words, but much to her chagrin she couldn't argue with him. "Yeah, okay. Thanks for that," she muttered, gathering resolve she wasn't sure she quite had and storming forward towards the door. Murphy wisely got out of the way, letting his fellow Arker yank open the door and shut it tightly behind her. He waited a beat before dumping everything on a nearby chair, looking through his spoils before finding a hunk of bread and some suspiciously smelling cheese. He looked at Rajani, who seemed nonchalant even while she stared him down—or maybe her resting face was just intimidating as hell.

 

After a moment's thought, he threw her the bread.

 

* * *

 

" _Wanheda?_ What is the meaning of this?!"

 

"Where is  _heda?!_ "

 

"The  _Fleimkappa_ has been imprisoned!"

 

"A guard said she heard  _gonshots!_ "

 

"Our  _gonakru_ march on Arkadia! Who will lead the blockade?!"

 

"Get out of the way,  _Skaikru_!"

 

" _Em pleni!_ " Clarke yelled over the frantic words of the assembled Coalition members. She had seen each of them in Lexa's hall, and most of them appeared to be _T_ _riku_ if their warpaint and armor were any indication. It was possible one was of  _Floukru_ , given her lighter attire and lack of warpaint altogether. Each one of them fixed her with stares that ranged from infuriated to intrigued, the latter possibly due to her use of their own language. She took a breath.

 

"Your  _heda_ has been injured, but she is recovering under the care of one of your own healers...your  _fisa_. Titus was responsible, and he  _will_  be dealt with," the Sky girl said with as much authority as she could muster.

 

"And what of the blockade?" one grizzled and tattooed man, clearly  _Trikru_ , pressed. Clarke surprised herself with her answer, which came far too fast for her own comfort.

 

"Send riders to tell them to set up camp five miles north of the fence. Do  _not_ engage. The Coalition will convene in one week's time, and a decision will be made then and only then," she said with narrowed eyes, daring any of them to speak up in protest.

 

Two of the members seemed doubtful, but the blonde was surprised at how easily the others seemed to fall in line. "How do we know you are not trying to save your own  _kru?"_ a short but stocky woman spit. She bore a frightening burn scar on half of her face that made Clarke wonder if she had survived the explosion in TonDC. She wavered.

 

"Listen to  _Wanheda._ She speaks the truth—our  _heda_ wills it."

 

Clarke wanted to sigh in relief as Rajani spoke up from behind her, the door ajar but not enough for the prying Coalition members to see inside. "Go now, and do well by our  _Kongeda,"_ the dark-skinned woman said with finality. It felt like a miracle when the Grounder men and women, still clearly unhappy, dispersed. Both Clarke and Rajani stole back into the room quickly, the blonde taking the time to lock it properly.

 

"They listen to you," the blonde remarked towards the Grounder as she grabbed a piece of dried meat from Murphy's stash. He didn't seem to notice from his spot on the balcony where he was eating and gazing out over Polis.

 

"Of course. Do  _Skaikru_  not treat their healers with the same respect?" the taller woman asked, ripping off a chunk of bread. Clarke suddenly thought of her mother, and the constant power struggle between her, Kane and Jaha. The idea of Pike crept into her mind, and she found herself suddenly feeling sick. The gravity of the lies she'd told and the orders she'd made hit her full force.

 

_What the hell am I doing?_

 

"Depends on what we say, I guess," she got out weakly, steadying herself by sitting on the bed next to Lexa. The proximity of her recuperating lover was calming, though her sudden unease didn't go unnoticed by her companion.

 

"You lied well to them,  _Wanheda._ You’d better hope  _heda_ agrees with you when she wakes."

 

Clarke sighed heavily, fingers loosely tangling with Lexa's and squeezing them until she felt the other girl’s warmth. She _hated_ that name. “I didn’t have a choice. Things are about to explode, and Lexa wouldn’t have wanted me to just let them make a decision for themselves.”

 

“You’re wrong—you had a choice, and you did what would protect your people,” Rajani said, tossing what was left of her bread onto an end table and picking up Roan’s knife instead. She spun it in her wide, calloused palm. “You want to stop our rightful vengeance out of fear for your loved ones. Don’t mistake my desire for calm in these chambers while _heda_ recovers for approval of your actions.”

 

The blonde bristled. “I want to stop all of the _death._ Mount Weather can’t happen again. We need to end this fucking cycle if any of us are going to survive.”

 

“We were surviving well before you fell from the sky,” the healer said with a curl of her upper lip. She stood and promptly walked to the door, opening it sharply. Rajani paused in the door frame, not looking back.

 

“You were right to wipe the _maunon_ from this planet. That choice, I will respect.”

 

The Sky girl cursed under her breath once the Grounder slipped out, though she then noticed that there was a fresh bowl of cold water and a cloth nearby. She doubted it’d been courtesy of Murphy. Sighing, she made her way to it and wrung out the soon wet cloth before placing it on Lexa’s brow.

 

“Do you think I’m being selfish?” Clarke asked of her unconscious companion. The blonde made a point to begin cleaning off the splotches of dried, black blood on Lexa’s chest, arms and abdomen. She smiled ruefully, spending extra time on the spot where the mark of _heda_ would be placed during a meeting of the Coalition.

 

“Probably. I’m the reason you’re lying here, after all. You should be out there leading your Clans, claiming your new legacy…”

 

_A legacy she didn’t want. You pushed her into it, and look what happened. You know Pike deserves to be cut down—why stop now?_

 

The thoughts in her head continued unimpeded as she rinsed the dirtied cloth. The image of Arkadia burning to the ground was a surprisingly satisfying one, though in Clarke’s mind her loved ones were standing on the right side of the fence. It was a temporary escape she allowed herself to have.

 

 _Her mother was standing silently beside a visibly relieved Kane. Octavia and Lincoln were reunited and then went to meet Nyko, the two Grounder men clasping arms. Raven had her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, but she was with them to the bitter end. Monte, Jasper and their fellow Delinquents were in a huddle, their expressions hard to read_ _—but they were safe_ _._

_The ones responsible for the death of Grounders were forced to their knees and made to submit and swear their allegiance to Lexa. They would join the Thirteen Clans like their fellow Arkers, or be cast out. The Coalition would be stronger for it in this new age of peace._

 

Her hands shook as she realized Bellamy would be one of the Arkers on his knees. No amount of wishful thinking could negate what he’d done, or the trust he’d violated. He’d given into his most base instinct: destroy the Other before they destroy us.

 

The look of righteous fury on Lexa’s face in the tent that day—with three hundred dead Grounders lying outside in the chill morning air—would forever be burned in her mind. That wrath had instead been tempered and recast into an ambition for peace, rather than drove her to massacre her foes in vengeance. Those forest green eyes had held such great burdens, and such impossible beauty.

 

_Damnit, Bellamy…you know why I had to choose her._

 

A sharp, ragged gasp jarred Clarke from her reverie. The bowl crashed to the floor, spilling the murky water everywhere, and the blonde was suddenly grasping Lexa’s flailing, flexing arm. Her eyes weren’t open, and sweat was gathering at her temples.

 

“Lexa! Lexa, calm down!” the blonde cried out in a panic at the Grounder’s wild movements. She was caught between the fear of tearing open her lover’s stitches by pushing her down too hard, or the worry that Lexa was about to do that on her own. “You’re safe! _Hod op!”_

 

Clarke had ended up leaning herself over the Commander, allowing the lack of space between their bodies to force the brunette to slump back against the sheets. She only put the slightest pressure on her lover’s upper arm and her hip, and mercifully it was enough to calm Lexa through what was either a nightmare or residual stress from what had put her in the bed in the first place.

 

Tears had gathered in the Sky girl’s eyes, and the floodgates threatened to burst when heavy, sunken lids slowly flicked open to reveal pained, but that same undeniably lovely forest green. Clarke held her breath.

 

“ _Klark…_ ” came the weak, hoarse whisper. The subtle click of her lover’s tongue at the Grounder pronunciation of her name finally choked a sob out of Clarke. The reaction was physical.

 

“Save your energy…try not to move, okay?” the blonde whispered back as she leaned in to press several light kisses to the brunette’s sweaty brow, and then one lingering kiss to her chapped lips. She was likely being selfish again, but she couldn’t stop herself. The slight movement of the Commander’s mouth in return confirmed it was something they both desperately needed. For a fleeting moment, there was only stillness, calm and warmth. Lexa was alive, and she was kissing her back.

 

“Uh…” came the last voice Clarke wanted to hear interrupting them in their gentle liplock, forcing the blonde to both part from her weakened lover and shoot Murphy a deadly glare.

 

“Go find Rajani! Now!”

 

“The fuck, you don’t give orders to—”

 

“ _Just do it, Murphy!_ ”

 

The thief glowered, but did as she asked without another objection. Clarke’s attention was already back on her lover when he left, her hand sweeping back stray brown hairs and coursing through Lexa’s thick braids. The hairs on the back of her neck were impossibly soft, as she'd discovered during their first morning spent in bed together.

 

“Where is… _Taitos_ …” Lexa groaned out, the Grounder’s limbs visibly trembling from either the cold, the agony or both. Clarke automatically switched into doctor's assist mode at the sight and quickly covered her patient with clean furs, swiping the bottle of painkillers from her stash and returning with a filled canteen. She propped up the Commander’s upper body as gently as possible, knowing she desperately needed the relief the pills would bring if the contorted look on her face was any indication.

 

“He’s locked up. Now take this…and drink,” the blonde said clearly, gently sliding the pills into the other girl’s slightly open mouth and lifting the canteen. Lexa got them down with little to no effort, and Clarke wanted to cry in relief. She gently rubbed the brunette’s neck, allowing her fingers to spread onto a safe spot on Lexa’s chest.

 

“ _Klark…_ I need to…” the Commander started, but she didn’t finish the thought as she clenched her jaw so hard that every tendon was on display. The Sky girl moved her palm to lie flat on her lover’s hard stomach, and rubbed there soothingly. It would take twenty Arkadian soldiers—and maybe ten strapping Grounders—to rip Clarke from her lover’s side now that she was awake, speaking and _looking at her._

 

“All you need to do is breathe, Lexa. Just breathe for me,” Clarke pleaded softly. Her lover’s half-hearted but assenting grunt into her hair, and the subsequent, shaking rise and fall of her chest, forced the tears to finally fall.

 

* * *

 

Octavia was pissed as she stormed through the lively Polis, dodging merchants, riders on horseback and laughing children alike. The populace was blissfully unaware of their leader fighting for her life on top of her tower, as well as the fragile peace that threatened to unravel at any second between Grounders and Arkadia. The young warrior found it maddening and unbearable, and it hastened her steps towards the small dilapidated building she'd been directed towards.

 

With a swift yank on the make-shift door that was hardly more than a tapestry, the brunette was staring down at the impossibly submissive form of her  _fos._ Indra was facing away from her on her bed, likely nursing the wounds that had left her close to death in the shadow of three hundred Grounders who'd already met that fate. Octavia's sword arm tensed with rage.

 

_A fate Bellamy and Pike forced on them..._

 

"Indra, you're needed at the blockade. Let me ride with you," came the girl's stubborn words. When Indra didn't move, she took a step into the small and surprisingly cozy one-bedroom dwelling. The large rack of weapons, some bloodied and some clean, clashed with the colorful fabrics of the General's bedspread and the woodworking pieces hanging up on the wall on on the shelves. She even saw a few books.

 

"Come no further,  _Okteivia kom Skaikru._ "

 

The ragged words were punctuated angrily by the prone woman, whose dark eyes soon fixated on the Arker who stood expectantly before her. From where Octavia was standing, her mentor was moving with far greater ease than when she initially returned home. The bandages were gone, but everything about Indra's posture was that of a furious, weakened predator. The girl wouldn't be deterred.

 

"You're a  _Trikru_  general!You can't just sit here while hundreds of your  _gona_ ride to—!"

 

"I am no use to  _heda_ anymore, and you are not my  _seken!"_ Indra snapped, rousing herself enough to draw a blade she kept under her bed and brandishing it threateningly. " _Jus drein jus daun no mou._  Go back to your kind,"she said bitterly, as if that phrase alone was enough to explain her snarling statement and shameful posture. It visibly infuriated her younger companion, who drew her own sword even as she took a step back. The dark-skinned woman was hardly in prime form but no less dangerous to provoke.

 

"I'm  _not_ crossing the blockade. I'm going to go get Lincoln back, kick Bellamy's ass and then drive my blade into Pike's fucking neck," Octavia said in a seething hiss. "The Indra I know would tell me to step down and take care of that last one herself."

 

The General didn't miss a beat, as if she'd had this argument in her own head thousands of times since returning from the massacre of her soldiers. " _Heda_ has made it clear. We will not avenge our fallen brothers and sisters...we will live in a world without honoring our traditions. I have no place in that world."

 

"Well Lexa's been shot, so I'm pretty sure she doesn't have a say right now."

 

Despite her obvious dislike for the Commander and her hold on Clarke, Octavia felt ashamed as soon as the defiant words slipped out. The reaction was immediate. Fire ignited in Indra's dark brown gaze and she surged to her feet to grab a tight hold of her apprentice's jacket, her rapid breaths hot on her apprentice's face as she got uncomfortably close. Several long moments stretched out before the incensed warrior even had the control to speak.

 

"Who did this?"

 

Octavia swallowed thickly, and her pause earned her a harsh shake. "Give me a  _NAME!_ " the general roared with a renewed vigor.

 

"Titus! Titus shot her!"

 

Leather creaked as Indra's gloved fingers clenched. "Where is he?"

 

Despite the two having drawn their weapons in a bout of frustration, they managed to separate peacefully after Octavia wrestled her way out of her mentor's hold. "The guards took him. Clarke and some Grounder healer are holed up in Clarke's room and they're trying to—" the brunette started, letting her explanation die off at Indra's hasty departure. She noticed the general had grabbed her breastplate off its rack on her way out.

 

"INDRA!" Octavia yelled out as she followed her  _fos_ out onto the crowded street. She caught the sight of cropped black hair and grimaced as a barrel-chested vendor suddenly collided with her on his pursuit of a small child. The man muttered his apologies in  _Trigedasleng,_ but the damage was done when Octavia looked back up.

 

Indra was gone.

 

" _JOK!_ " the once- _Skaikru_ shouted to the sky. She earned several disapproving glances as she dove headfirst back into the crowd, the young warrior knowing exactly from the murderous look on Indra’s face where her mentor was going.

 

Titus was going to bleed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments, hits, kudos, bookmarks, etc.! It's hella motivation.
> 
> "fos" = First  
> "Azgeda" = Ice Nation  
> "Leksa" = Lexa  
> "Natblida" = Nightblood  
> "jus" = blood  
> "Trikru" = Woods Clan  
> "Kongeda" = Coalition  
> "Niron" = my love (more on this later, I think)  
> "maunon" = Mountain Men  
> "Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim" = get knocked down, get back up  
> "gona" = warrior  
> "trigona" = tree warrior  
> "sha" = yes  
> "fisa" = healer  
> "Klark kom Skaikru" = Clarke of the Sky People  
> "Naikou" = Nyko  
> "gonshots" = gunshots (I made that up lol)  
> "em pleni" = enough  
> "Floukru" = Boat People  
> "Hod op" = stop  
> "Jus drein jus daun no mou" = blood must not have blood (this might be wrong oops)  
> "Jok" = fuck


End file.
